Family Traditions
by sofasoapsopia
Summary: James was laughing, Remus was shaking his head, and Peter was giggling into his hands. And Sirius? Well, Sirius was kind of dying. He'd never dated, never had an interest in girls, barely even talked to them. His friends had been all he needed. But now he's got a bit of a crush and Calypso, well, she's just wondering why these boys keep bothering her.


I was hit with inspiration and the need for some romance. Couldn't find what I wanted and decided to write it myself.

I do not own Harry Potter.

not edited

 **Chapter 1**

Would you believe me if I said that the first time I met Sirius Black, I hadn't cared at all?

Yeah I guess he was good looking, with his aristocratic features, fair, lively skin and his young face. He had the colouring of a Black, hair dark and thick, styled so that it almost reached his shoulders elegantly; his eyes were a striking grey, and I was sure that had I paid more attention to him if any at all when he was outside, and the sun was gleaming down on Hogwarts, that they'd appear a fluid silver; and his skin, it pale and fair, and gave him a look that just screamed 'alive!'.

And yeah, I guess he was funny too, I'd always laughed at the pranks that he and little band of friends liked to pull. They were absolute geniuses, the four of them put together. It was rather unfortunate that not many seemed to realise this fact.

But that's really where Sirius Black ended. All he was good for was to look at and have a good laugh. And I didn't even really care about how he looked. He just wasn't that handsome to me. If I wanted something good to look at, I could either find a mirror or go home and find any Tremaine that was further related in blood than third cousins.

I was in my fifth year at Hogwarts when I first spoke to him. As it were, we were in detention – him for Merlin and Morgana knows what, and I because I skived all of my classes and had confined myself to the library. It's not my fault that the witch trials are so attention grabbing, I've always been rather attracted to the violent and bloody parts of our history. It was just so terribly interesting and I always got a high from reading about the wars. It just seemed to get my blood rushing with adrenaline, a fiery and overwhelming urge to just up and start attacking the first thing in sight – preferably a living being – as if I were in the wars myself.

I loved the fight and the feeling of success and victory and power, and I guess that's what attracted me to the Dark Arts. But that's a story for another time, one I'd be wholly willing to share when I know for certain you wouldn't run away screaming 'Death Eater!' and all of those other nasty stuff people called wizards and witches that dabbled with dark magic these days.

Most of that faithful detention was spent cleaning up a classroom without the use of magic. When we started it had looked as though a hurricane had run through it. That hurricane might have also been called Peeves. Unimportant details really.

The majority of the time was spent in silence. I would have liked to say that I was the one that broke the silence, because my curiosity got the better of me and I had a fondness for the 'Marauders's pranks, but it hadn't really. Again, I was too busy fantasising about myself fighting in one of those beautiful dresses that belonged to witches centuries back, throwing curses and hexes around ever corner, so when I heard a sudden, "What are you here for?" I jumped and almost threw the broken desk leg at his pretty face.

I had been confused. You would have been too, if you knew Sirius Black. There wasn't much to him in my eyes, as I had previously said, but he did carry a reputation. It was concerning, and I almost asked him if he was feeling okay, because if there's one thing you to need to know about Sirius Black, it was that he didn't date.

He was considered a bad boy, the hot and popular rebellious Black that was funny, and handsome, witty and smart. He had dark, intense eyes and a voice that could melt hearts, he was tall, fit, and carried with him an air of effortless elegance. Fact is though, Sirius Black didn't date. And he didn't sweep girls off their feet and take them to a broom closet to snog 'em senseless either.

Now, I probably sound a little conceited and random going on about a tangent about how he has a reputation of not dating, and you're probably wondering what the hell has this got to do with me being confused about why he's talking to me and wondering if he's ill, but it makes perfect sense. If Sirius Black doesn't date, then he certainly has no reason to talk to girls – or boys for that matter if he swung that way, though I'm pretty sure he didn't. The first thing that comes to mind when you think of Sirius Black – discounting his reputation – is that he doesn't date, or anything sexual for that matter. So, there. I had actually put my name down in the bet that he was asexual.

So, why was he talking to me? He didn't talk to anyone but his band of friends and to Slytherins when he was insulting them. I didn't know, and I didn't make a big deal out of it. Instead, I had just turned to him, caught his totally disinterested expression and the way he had barely looked my way, and raised an eyebrow.

I figured he spoke for the sake of breaking the silence. He didn't seem like the type of person to spend more than hour quietly. I guessed that he had just been dying to talk to someone, and I just happened to be there.

So I told him the truth, that I skived a day's worth of classes and somehow that had actually earned me a slightly confused expression.

"But – aren't you a Ravenclaw?" he looked at my robes dubiously and I almost cooed. This poor, uneducated boy. It wasn't that much of a surprise. As much as I though he and his friends were funny, they were awfully cruel, especially to Slytherins. All Gryffindors were, and they weren't that much better with how they treated us Ravenclaws. After all, we were all apparently 'snobby and arrogant'. They were all fairly biased and never tried to understand anyone else but themselves, and Sirius Black was no exception. He looked at everyone and thing with one pair of eyes, denying himself the bigger picture.

"Not all Ravenclaws like class, y'know." I had said dryly, feeling amused. He'd looked mystified, and that was the end of that conversation. He shook off the expression and along with it his mild curiosity and turned back to the cauldrons that he was washing. And I, I had looked back down at the leg in my hands and tossed it into the pile of things that would need to be magically repaired.

Our first meeting left my mind as soon as I left detention.

Had I known that that little bit of perceived house rebellion had left a curious impression on him, I would have thrown my pureblood status and appeal to the Dark Arts in his face.


End file.
